


It's More Fun

by djchika



Category: Glee, Glee RPF
Genre: Beach fic, M/M, Post-Glee, crisscolfer, crisscolfer gift exchange, darren and criss visit the philippines, more like plane trip fic I guess, road trip fic, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djchika/pseuds/djchika
Summary: “Let’s go somewhere.”“Where?”“On an adventure,” Darren said, one knee bouncing on the floor making the couch cushions vibrate under Chris.





	It's More Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/gifts).



> A gift for my beloved Mandy for the Crisscolfer Winter Fic Exchange 2017

It started like any other day.

Chris was snuggled up on the couch, Brian and Cooper surrounding him, the heat of his laptop seeping through the blanket that protected his legs from the mid-November chill.

Their peace was interrupted by the sudden weight of Darren flopping down on the other end of the couch, eyes manic in a way that Chris knew well but hadn’t seen in years.

“Let’s go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“On an adventure,” Darren said, one knee bouncing on the floor making the couch cushions vibrate under Chris.

The calmer, suredness that exuded from Darren in his thirties made it easy to forget that he used to be a ball of energy and insecurity that had bounced in and out of Chris’ orbit until one day he had simply stopped bouncing and had taken root in Chris’ life.

Like a fungus.

Chris drummed his fingertips against the edge of his laptop.

“On an adventure,” Chris repeated slowly considering it.

The thing was, after all these years, he had never learned to say no to Darren.

-

They landed on a warm beach, on an island neither of them could pronounce properly. The local boatman who had taken them barely acknowledged the mistake, too used to foreign visitors mangling their language.

“ _Salamat_ ,” Chris tried again, as they were escorted to their room with their luggage.

He was rewarded with the amused yet fond smile most of the locals shared whenever a foreigner tried to speak their language. “You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay.”

Darren helped dump their bags, gave the guy a tip and a smile then headed straight to the veranda that lead directly to the beach, throwing the side doors wide open as he went.

Hot heavy air blew into the room, making goosebumps erupt on Chris’ skin as the room’s cool air conditioned air fought against it.

He walked over to Darren wrapping his arms around him from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. The thrumming underneath Darren’s skin felt almost palpable this close, but Chris knew he was imagining it. Still he couldn’t help the instinct to sooth, pressing a soft kiss into Darren’s shoulder.

Darren tipped his head, nuzzling against Chris’ cheek. “Fuck, this is beautiful,” he said with a sigh, never one to conceal his awe.

Chris realized he hadn’t even given the scene a second glance, entirely focused on Darren. He looked up and blinked against the blinding sunlight.

Darren was right. The ocean was bluer than Chris thought possible, reflecting an entirely cloudless sky. Coconut trees, tall and slender, provided the only shelter from the bright tropical sun. It was entirely picturesque. The kind travel agencies displayed that Chris always assumed were heavily photoshopped.

It was going to be a good week.

Darren dragged his fingers through his shortened curls, the other hand tugging Chris closer. “Glad you're here.”

In another time Chris would have been subjected to a long, rambling brain fart of a sentence that was both heartfelt and cheesy. Now, those three words between them were enough.

A soft grumbling from the general vicinity of Chris’ stomach interrupted the silence. “Can we at least eat before you drag me out there,” he asked.

“Lunch on the beach? We can grab some sandwiches and have a picnic?”

Chris snorted a short laugh causing Darren’s eyebrows to draw together in confusion.

“ _Sand_ wich.”

All he got in response was a deep groan.

-

Flying to the Philippines had meant paying a visit to Cerina’s childhood home before heading to the resort.

Chris had loved them, loved how they were everything he’d always known Darren’s family was - warm, inviting and possessing a lack of personal boundaries that Chris had come to associated with everything Darren.

At the mention on their plans to hide out on the beach, Tita Ayay (as she had insisted Chris call her) had admonished, _“Kasal una bago honeymoon!”,_ punctuated by a hearty laugh rolling through her small frame. Darren had turned bright red, deciphering the phrase though context clues which Chris had graciously ignored.

Darren’s nieces and nephews were much shyer but had soon embraced the novelty of their visitors, prodding Chris to twist his tongue around foreign words until they had all dissolved into good natured giggles. The sparkle in Darren’s eyes had been worth the faint blush that had colored Chris’ cheeks.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Chris had repeated the words until _Maayong Buntag_ jumped off his tongue the way it should in it’s choppy, lilting dance.

“You’re all set as long as it’s anytime before noon,” Darren had teased.

Chris had ignored him, basking in the proud approval of his audience, however easily it had been achieved.

(He got his pay back once they were alone in their hotel room.

Clothes forgotten on the floor, Chris mapped Darren’s body with his mouth and his hands, following familiar dips and curves.

Glassy-eyed with want, Darren moaned as Chris’ finger wet with lube pressed inside him, getting him ready for more. Chris took his time, drawing out Darren’s pleasure until he was writhing on the bed, rolling his hips as Chris’ fingers undid him.

Darren made a low noise in his throat, “Chris, please -”

It was all the prompting Chris needed to move up until he was chest to chest with Darren, pressing into him torturously slow.

When he was fully inside, heart racing with the effort to hold back, Chris breathed against the shell of Darren’s ear, _“Gimahal tika.”_

Darren’s answering kiss was both filthy and sweet, hips bucking up into Chris’ until they were both groaning, all languages drowned out by the the sound of skin and breath and _them_.)

-

Lunch was an unhurried event that took place on the beach, in a hut made of bamboo and coconut leaves. To Chris’ surprise Darren didn’t insist on going into the water until the sun was much lower in the sky.

Now that they were there though, he refused to get out even as they were slowly being surrounded by ocean life brought in by the tide.

“You’re going to get stung by a jellyfish and I’m going to have to pee on you,” Chris deadpanned, carefully wading closer to Darren and away from a clump of seaweed.

It didn’t look like it was housing anything but Chris wasn’t going to risk his toe finding its way near a crab’s claw.

Darren wasn’t listening to him. His face was fully submerged underwater, newly bought snorkeling gear wrapped around his head.

“My dick will associate you with peeing and we’ll never have sex again. I bet yours does but my kinks do not extend that far.”

“I can hear you, asshole,” Darren said after he surfaced and pulled out the tube from his mouth with a pop. “You’d rather I suffer than ruin our sex life?

Chris nodded. “Absolutely.”

Darren laughed, giving him a wet peck on the cheek. “Good thing the peeing thing isn’t true then. And the guy said the ones here are harmless.”

“That one doesn’t look harmless,” Chris said peering skeptically at a floating blob slightly larger than the others they’d seen.

“Oooh where?” Darren asked, slipping his goggles back on and swimming away from Chris to get a better look.

“I’m still not peeing on you!” Chris called out, refusing to be embarrassed by the statement. The beach was empty with only the fish around to judge him.

-

Chris expected to spend the next day lounging at the beach and trying to keep Darren from getting stung by jellyfish or other indigenous wildlife. Instead he was faced with a full itinerary of activities including a sunset sail on a paraw.

He did not know what a paraw was but a quick Google search brought up photos of beautiful sailboats that seemed way too small to be safe.

Unfortunately Google turned out to be accurate both about its beauty and its size.

Large sails loomed over them, dyed into a dozen different shades of red, purple and orange with a small corner left bare for the resort’s logo. A gust of wind caught in the cloth making the colors dance, the boat groaning gently as it rocked.

Its body was a little wider than the the width of a canoe but much longer. Its tall sales were balanced by long, thick bamboo that jutted out of from the front and back of the boat and intersected with more bamboo that ran the length of it. Strong nets, that didn’t look at all like they were used for fishing, covered the rectangular space it created.

“Are you sure this isn’t going to fall apart while we’re in the middle of the ocean?” Chris asked, voice low, knowing he could easily be understood.

“Yeah!” Darren replied enthusiastically, clambering on with the help of the boatman’s assistant.

The ride out was quick, much faster than Chris expected from such a small craft. He couldn’t help the tension that wound its way around his body as the beach grew smaller and smaller in the horizon.

Beside him, Darren had eyes for nothing but the water in front of them, one hand wound loosely around Chris’.

The sight of Darren’s unconcerned face eased his anxiety. They were fine. The boat was fine. They had lifejackets and the men they were with looked like they could bench press Chris which he assumed meant they could easily find a way to swim them back to shore if needed. Chris was fine. Darren wasn’t fine. Not yet, but they were getting there.

A couple of minutes later, they slowed down, clear blue water now interspersed with green. Soft waves lapping at the sides of the boat.

“You can sit on the net,” the boatman said, “You feel the water on the net.”

Chris looked at Darren skeptically who only raised his eyebrows back at Chris in a challenge.

Resigned, Chris waved his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture. They were both helped onto the net by the boatman’s assistant who quickly moved to the other side afterward to keep their balance.

Even with their combined weight, the net only dipped slightly until they could feel the gentle sluicing of the water underneath them.

The boat slowed down further until the motor’s growling cut out and they were simply floating quietly, forced in place by a makeshift anchor.

“Wow,” Chris said underneath his breath.

Out there in the open ocean without anything to block their view, the setting sun cast the whole sky in hues of orange and purple and pink. The blues and greens of the ocean reflected the sunset turning the water into its own personal canvas.

“Have you ever seen anything this beautiful?”

“Your arms after a workout,” Darren replied promptly.

Chris laughed, nudging aforementioned arms against Darren. “You ruin everything.”

“I haven’t ruined this yet,” Darren said, the humor in his voice mixed in with honest self-depreciation.

Chris shook his head, annoyed at himself for his choice of words. “I didn’t mean-”

“I’m just kidding,” Darren interrupted softly, turning Chris’ face away from him with a gentle press of his fingers, “You’re missing the sunset.”

Not for the first time, Chris wished words came as easily to him with Darren as it did with his books.

-

Out there in the middle of paradise, neither of them hardly registered.

If you had asked 20 year old Chris this would be his nightmare, never quite achieving the success of his days on Glee.

Chris had never gone back to acting. Darren’s music career had never picked up. Neither were wanting for projects but the flames of fame had slowly died out.

It was on their fourth day that Chris finally found out the reason for Darren’s sudden thirst for adventure.

The call came in as they were both getting ready for bed, midnight for them meant eight in the morning back home.

Darren stepped out in the veranda but Chris could see his silhouette through the window sheers. He tried to stay up, his curiosity properly piqued but after a day spent island hopping Chris found himself startled awake at the sound of the side doors opening and locking closed.

He waited until Darren was a couple of steps from the bed. “Who was that?” Chris asked tentatively, bracing himself for the anwer.

A couple of years of them being officially together didn’t erase a decade of heartbreak. He was older, didn’t bristle easily, didn’t prepare for a fight where there was only wisps of one, but deep inside he was still wary of Darren. Still halfway expected to wake up one morning to find that Darren’s priorities had shifted away from Chris once more.

Instead of answering Darren crawled into bed until he was snuggled against Chris, his head buried in his neck.

“I dunwa oo it,” he mumbled into Chris’ neck after a minute.

“You want a donut?” Chris asked trying to decipher the mumbling.

Darren finally lifting his head. He shifted until his knees were on either side of Chris’ lap, round ass firmly seated on Chris’ thighs.

“No,” he started then rolled his eyes, “actually yes, now I want a donut. Fuck.”

“We can call room service?”

Darren shook his head, giving Chris a quick kiss, his breath a faint tickle on Chris’ lips as he laughed. “Do you have magic ‘stop feeling like shit’ powers you’ve never told me about?”

“I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours?”

The way Darren’s eyes dimmed at the question almost made Chris want to take it back.

“I said ‘I don’t want to do it,” Darren said with a sigh.

Chris tilted his head but didn’t say anything not wanting to add even more confusion to their already confusing conversation.

“They want me to start the media circus again,” Darren said after a beat. “Ricky thinks it’ll help jumpstart my career. PR, events, the works.”

All too familiar tendrils of dread wrapped around him. Chris knew what that entailed. Knew that appearances meant _appearances_ which left no room for a boyfriend secret or otherwise.

Darren looked at Chris, eyes slightly tinted with guilt. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I wasn’t thinking about it.”

The way Chris tensed under him wasn’t lost on Darren. Darren leaned into him, his hands moving up and down Chris’ shoulders. Despite the warmth of Darren’s hands, ice ran through Chris’ veins, his chest suddenly heavy with pressure.

“You get it,” Darren continued. “You know why we do what we do. What we have to give up to do it. But fuck, Chris-”

He ran a hand through his hair while the other moved to the back of Chris neck to pull him closer until their foreheads met. That near Chris could pick out the golden specs in Darren’s eyes. He wanted to close his eyes against them but he couldn’t, mesmerized as they seemed to dance with emotion.

“I spent 16 hours in an airplane with you and I couldn’t remember being happier than when I was sitting there with you beside me in an Ambien induced sleep,” Darren said in a whisper that rang too loud in Chris’ ears. Hope was a dangerous thing. “And then I get the call, wanting to know if I was in or not, and it felt like the floor had dropped out from under me.”

Chris didn’t move, uncertain if Darren’s next words would thaw or shatter his heart.

“I couldn’t - I didn’t -” Darren took a deep breath. He pulled away, hand shifting to cup Chris’ cheek before letting it fall away. The look he gave Chris hinted of sadness but was otherwise saturated with resolve. “I told them I don’t want to do it.”

The wave of relief that went through him seemed to crest through Darren as well.

“I don’t want to do it,” Darren repeated, breaking out into a laugh. “Holy fucking hell, it feels good to say it.”

That drew a laugh from Chris as well, the ropes of ice around his chest finally letting him breathe. “You don’t want to do it.”

“I don’t want to do it.”

“Okay.”

Chris smiled. They were going to be okay.

-

When Ricky tried to call again an hour later, Darren turned off his phone and threw it under the bed.

Chris was too sleepy to think about how they were going to fish it out and left it for future Chris to worry about.

It turned out Darren didn’t care about getting back his phone, intent on pulling Chris from their cool air conditioned room and out into the morning sun that was causing sweat to cling to Chris’ skin, his whole body sticky with humidity.

A bead of sweat slowly tricked down Chris’ forehead. He swiped it away before it could reach his eyes, trying not to wiggle around too much and get sand on his blanket.

“How can you be raised and born in California and hate the sun?”

“Clovis,” Chris said raising his right hand, “San Francisco,” he added raising his left hand as far away from his right as he can.

Darren grabbed the hand nearest him and gave it a kiss. “Wanna head in?”

Chris hummed non committedly. He knew they needed to get out of the sun soon. Darren would tan, his skin genetically predisposed to the sun, but Chris’ would turn an angry, peeling red.

The quiet was intoxicating though, making him reluctant to move despite the warm tropical sun beating down on them. Chris would hate it if not for the boy laid out next to him

“Maybe in a couple of minutes,” he finally said.

Darren grinned at him, all teeth and wrinkled cheeks. Chris couldn’t help leaning over and sliding a kiss on his lips, his tongue tasting salt, a hint of sunblock and something unmistakably Darren.

He lay back down on his blanket, a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun.

Maybe they were right. Maybe to get everything they wanted, they needed to play the game, needed to play pretend not just at work but with their personal lives as well but Chris couldn't find it in himself to care.

At that moment the only advice Chris wanted to give his twenty year old self was ‘let yourself be happy’ and right then, laying with a man he loved under a sun he hated, Chris was.

He had never been happier to be b-list.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations of the BisayaI used in the fic. Bisaya is a Filipino language specific to the Visayas region which is where Cebu (Cerina's hometown) is located. 
> 
> _Salamat_ = Thank You
> 
>  _Kasal una bago honeymoon!_ = Marriage before honeymoon!
> 
>  _Maayong Buntag_ = Good Morning
> 
>  _Gimahal tika_ = I love you
> 
> -
> 
> Now come find me on tumblr at [djchika](http://djchika.tumblr.com/) ;)


End file.
